After the Fall The Loue runs underground, birthed from dark cave, shadows large and lurking, boulders mirrored in murky water below. It is the way of things, this dark water, this blackness, this cave which surrenders its bleak reality untainted by lush landscapes. Courbet saw it, this accouchement he knew, saw its truth black as oil beneath the surface. Did he dive into that black hell? Did he ever see sun glinting off water, or Van Gogh’s, Monet’s blues and purples, Gauguin’s bronze bodies, lying abed, spread lushly by blue waters, oranges and yellows, reds awash with sun glow? Or was he forever le desespere?[1]Of late I have seen such a face, a desperate man fraught with demons, his own journey into bowels of soul. His return uncertain. Nancy Owen Nelson [1] Courbet’s self-portrait, “The Desperate Man.” Nancy Owen Nelson is the author of Divine Aphasia: a Woman's Search for her Father, and other books.
1 Comment
Mary N Taitt
9/8/2021 01:41:51 pm
Sweet in its unsweetness! Excellent!
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